Riders on the Storm
by jencenD
Summary: DISCONTINUED. Storm is stuck above the Stockholm but that doesn't prevent bad things from happening. Timeline between The Fire Engine That Disappeared and Murder at the Savoy when Skacke is not yet transferred to Malmö. Partly based on character description of Mannen pa taket, so not everything matches the book.
1. Chapter 1

It was raining. Drop by drop, the knock became more and more annoying but no one seemed to notice that.

There was an interesting fact about noises. Researchers say, if you spend enough time hearing it, your mind will take it for granted and won't really pay attention. It could be a screechy woman's voice or a working drill behind the wall. The same thing could be addressed to raindrops falling sound.

But not for those who still were on Kungsholmsgatan, sitting and staring at the papers or a bunch of arrested citizens. Some of them haven't been here once and won't stay out for long; the others were not really citizens but people who were falling apart. There were many reports on such people but no one really paid attention. Stockholm was large enough for that.

This autumn was without any doubts nasty. Rain didn't stop for third day already and wouldn't mind to keep it up. Most of people already finished complaining and agreed that it was bearable overall. Other people decided to spend the nasty days at home, taking compensatory holidays or sick leaves.

Lennart Kollberg related himself to the second group. He would most certainly like to stay at home with his wife and son but Swedish police never seemed to be complete without him; that was how he explained Gun his compensatory holidays on Kungsholmsgatan. She was a clever woman and only gave him a meaningful looks before closing the doors behind him. That happened on Monday, just as the week started.

Today was Wednesday and the day was almost over. The clock said it was 7 p.m. but behind the rain there was no sign of time changes. Even if someone wanted to go home after the day ends, they would need a great luck just to open an umbrella and cross the road. The rain was followed by a wild storm and everyone who was at home or at work stayed there, waiting.

So Kollberg stayed at work. Well, at the end of Monday he tried to get on the street but lost the courage after losing his umbrella to the storm. The alternatives were lousy – taking a car would end up with a car accident.

There was not only Kollberg who ended up at the police management on Monday. Those few people got to organize some kind of a hotel by using camp-cots and sleeping bags; some others managed to sleep sitting at their working tables. In short, the police management on Kungsholmsgatan turned into a temporary surviving station. Four detectives, including Lennart Kollberg, were there, looking through weather forecasts and shaking their heads, taking distasteful coffee out of lobby coffee-machine, exchanging a word or two between each other; one of them even was able to work but didn't succeed. That one was Benny Skacke who believed that working hard in any situation is the only way to move on. He tried to stay quiet and unnoticed so he wouldn't be reprehended for something like his last biggest wrongdoing – that one that ended up with Kollberg getting stabbed. Since Lennart Kollberg was stuck at the police station too, the only thing Skacke could do was working and working and working.

Kollberg himself was rarely leaving his office. The coffee wouldn't help him at all so he put it beside. Staying at one place once was his dream, but when it came true, he wasn't delighted in any way. "Man proposes, god disposes", he remembered suddenly. He could hear Rönn sniffing behind the wall, calling somewhere one or two times in an hour and whistling. Rönn couldn't be called a good whistler and he never claimed to be one but the third day in a row without leaving Kungsholmsgatan would affect him in some way.

Next detective, unfortunate enough to end up here, was Ingemar Branström, a tempered thirty-eight years old son of _Ö_sthammar. He arrived in Stockholm on Monday morning and couldn't leave the town because of the storm. Actually, he couldn't even leave the building. But Branström turned out to be the most optimistic out of all 'survivours' and even was trying to make jokes about their unfortunate state. Not much people were responding, though. Most of them were somewhat envying Martin Beck and some other detectives that had a day off at Monday and were now at homes or somewhere else but not outwaiting the storm at a police management.

The worst fact in the situation was that some of the most sensational crimes happened when it was raining. For example, the case which carried away Åke Stenström's life. Lennart Kollberg tended not to remember that case usually but now it popped up in his mind. "Good things never happen during such awful weather", he thought. And he was right.

Suddenly, the doors at the fourth floor flew open as a tall figure approached the lobby. The man was wearing a long grey autumn coat, soaking wet, and a newspaper he used as some kind of an umbrella was sticked to his wet face and blond hair. His eyes couldn't be seen from under the newspaper. Perhaps, that was even better for those who looked at him, stunned.

Einar Rönn was finishing third cup of coffee when the man arrived. To his surprise, the man wasn't angry – he looked rather exhausted and wretched than angry.

- Good heavens, Gunvald, - Rönn said as the man approached him. – How did you manage to pass the storm?

Gunvald Larsson didn't respond and moved forward to his office. At the door he stood, turned around and said, pulling the newspaper off his head:

- Phone Martin Beck. Tell him that Swedish police can't stand his absence.

Then he threw the newspaper into a trash bin and entered his office, slamming the door behind him. Two policemen and Einar Rönn were standing frozen as Kollberg looked out of his office, finally interested in something.

Just as I thought, Lennart said to himself.


	2. Chapter 2

_I'm not going to pull things with this story - I think I'll finish it as soon as I can so I'll be able to watch Beck again. Fanfiction somehow took out all my free time._

_And yes, it **is **mostly based on characters' appearance from Mannen pa taket. That was the film I decided to write fanfiction after. Specially romance of some kind._

* * *

Fifteen minutes later the fourth floor of police management on Kungsholmsgatan was being successfully revived. Those thirteen - now fourteen - people who were stuck here started to move around, calling everyone needed, yelling something across the hallways - having a normal working day, even though it was already 7:30 p.m. and some policemen were going to end the day.

Einar Rönn already found out that Martin Beck left Stockholm at Sunday's evening and would doubtfully come back before his compensatory holiday ends. And it would likely end with the storm above Stockholm. This fact wasn't very promising, considering Martin Beck was one of the best Swedish detectives - as the press said - and Gunvald Larsson wouldn't ask to call him without a serious reason.

Larsson, by the way, had latched himself up since the moment he closed his office's door behind him. Ronn started to worry about it; the last time he saw Gunvald Larsson was Saturday and he was seriously irritated about his last case, closed because of lack of evidence. Einar Rönn remembered that Larsson just didn't have enough time to find the evidence but that was considered negligence. Not everyone thought the same way, but Gunvald still flared up and left the police management in hell of a mood. Two days later, on Monday's morning he called and informed them about taking a sick leave. And now, at the end of Wednesday, in the very midst of a storm, Larsson has come back in a very unfortunate time and condition. "Strange things do happen", Rönn mumbled to himself while making next phone call.

There was a reason for that to happen, and when Gunvald Larsson finally unlocked his office from the inside and stepped out, ten people were standing before his door, waiting in silence. Lennart Kollberg was not among them, he was making a phone call home, where his wife was waiting for the storm to end, just like him. She told her husband that Joakim asked where had his father gone. Kollberg laughed at this and was already going to tell her the situation and how the weather is screwing all them up, but at this very moment Larsson's door bumped and he had to finish the call hastily, telling Gun he loves her and hearing a chuckle in response.

Gunvald Larsson looked better, comparing to the moment he came to Kungsholmsgatan. He had taken off his wet coat, leaving on shirt only; his tie disappeared somewhere in the office with the coat and suit jacket. Under the coat he was partly wet, too; his blond hair looked fuzzy - seemed he had rubbed them with a hand towel which was wrapped around his neck. When Kollberg looked out of his office, Gunvald Larsson glared at him and asked impatiently:

- Found Beck?

Rönn was about to answer this, but Lennart Kollberg anticipated him.

- Martin took his day off at Monday, I doubt he'll return here till the storm dies away. Why would you suddenly come here during your... "sick leave", am I right? Not happy with staying out of all the joy or not feeling sick enough?

Larsson didn't look away, his blue eyes drilling the other man. Ronn shivered a little, thinking about a storm that was going to start here, at the social side. But only the thunder followed the silence inside fourth floor of the police management.

- How long has that body been at the entrance? - Larsson declared. Two policemen out of eleven (now that Kollberg joined them) looked shocked, and Einar Rönn told with a bit of worrying in his voice:

- We've been here since Monday. It was all right back then, and no one was leaving. Except of Lennart, but that was at the end of Monday.

- So you haven't seen the body, - said Gunvald Larsson without changing the intonation. – I need you to check it out, now.

- Wait, Larsson, - Lennart Kollberg interrupted him. – Do you mean there's a body at the police territory? Where, at the parking or the entrance check-in?

- I mean what I say, - he answered. – This was the reason for me to come here.

Kollberg didn't answer, going back to his office; clothes rustling could be heard behind the door. A minute later he left the room, closing the door behind him. He was wearing his coat, the one he nearly lost with his umbrella, but the coat had more luck to stay with the owner.

- So? – he said, ready to go. Gunvald Larsson nodded without a sound, turned around and moved towards the open doors to the stairwell. Einar Rönn and Ingemar Branström followed him with Kollberg as a closer. Two more policemen took pocket flashlights and moved after them as well.

* * *

Most of lights have gone out during the storm, so only three or four lamps were shining, creating a dim atmosphere at the parking lots. There were seven cars; one of them Kollberg's, the other one was that one that Rönn arrived with. All other cars were police's property. At first, nothing could be seen in such darkness; even the silence created some kind of fog amongst the cars. But as six men came down to the parking lots, it has all changed in a single moment. A cried word reflected from the walls and returned as a loud echo effect.

- There!

Gunvald Larsson was the first one in this procession and the cry obviously belonged to him. Kollberg hurried as he heard it; Branström and Rönn followed as fast as possible. Branstrom was almost as tall and fast as Larsson but he still was behind the other man, so he needed to hurry. And Rönn just coulnd't compare himself to the other ones and was sniffing and groaning as he stumbled into different things.

Larsson stopped at the centre of parking lots. It was surprisingly one of the darkest places here, and he was now going through his pockets looking for a flashlight. Lennart Kollberg, luckily, had one and turned it on just as he entered the parking area. He saw Larsson standing, arms outstretched, and ran up at him, breathless.

- So? Where is that body of yours? – he asked, trying to catch his breath. Gunvald Larsson was staring at the ground before him, looking at least strange and what you may call 'embarrassed'. He slowly raised his head and gazed at Kollberg.

- Right here, - he pointed his finger somewhere on the ground. Lennart made an odd face as he lighted that place with his flashlight and found nothing but grey concrete surface.

- But there's… oh, there's nothing here, Gunvald! See yourself! – he shouted and pointed _his _finger at the place flashlight was beaming at.

- Are you fucking kidding me? – the other man shouted in response. – Or do you think I am _that_ bad as a policeman to miss a dead body lying at the police management?

- You caught it well – I _do_ think so. – Kollberg was beginning to flare up; working and dealing with Gunvald Larsson never was an easy target for him and he never really wanted to hit this target.

In this exact moment Ingemar Branström came in time with Ronn mumbling something and two policemen holding flashlights turned on. As they saw two other detectives, they stood still and started to look around.

- I could _not _be mistaking, - Larsson said slowly, glaring at Lennart Kollberg. The other man didn't seem to believe that; he stepped away as Einar Rönn approached them.

- Could you be hallucinating, perhaps? – he muttered, looking up at his friend. – If your health condition was serious at Monday, perhaps today—

- I was not ill, Einar, - Gunvald answered, irritated. – And I am not ill now, and I have never been hallucinating. She was lying right here, a dead woman, approximately 25 year old, redhead; looked like she was brought here a few hours ago.

- Wow, hallucinations can be detailed enough sometimes, - Lennart nervously chuckled. That was the last thing said before Gunvald Larsson glanced at the concrete surface for the last time, murmured something obscene and left the parking lots, increasing pace. Rönn only sighed and followed him; Kollberg shrugged, giving the grey floor last look and then going away, too. Two policemen and Ingemar Branström, on the contrary, stayed to explore the parking lots for a bit more. The rain outside seemed to die away at some point; at least the drops were starting to sound more like a drum beat but not an endless radio static noise.


	3. Chapter 3

A whole hour passed since the crusade of Gunvald Larsson. The police management went silent again, there were only noises of someone fighting with the coffee machine or making phone calls from the main deck. Unfortunately for Lennart Kollberg, his office had been occupied by Larsson; he explained it by malfunctions in his own phone. He also hadn't left Kollberg's office once he entered it so Lennart had to sit outside and wait.

- What a stubborn person, - he murmured, looking at the door. - Everyone could have hallucinations, why would he suddenly think he can't.

Einar Rönn didn't return to his working place also. He was trying to contact other police stations; most of them responded poorly but there was three-four stations that were able to communicate. Rönn couldn't decide whether Gunvald Larsson was right and there was a woman or that was all a hallucination of Rönn's own. He threw these thoughts away as Larsson left Lennart Kollberg's office. Gunvald stood still for half a minute, staring at some point before him and keeping silence. Finally, he flinched and gazed at Einar Rönn.

- There are five missing readhead women, and that's only Stockholm. Not counting those who could disappear within last three days. One of them is got to be her.

- If there _was_ a dead redhead at all. Just admit it, Larsson, you had come here for no reason during the worst storm ever happened in Sweden. What was the original reason, by the way? - Kollberg said with an irony in his voice. In this moment Ingemar Branström with two policemen returned from the parking lots. Branström was holding a flashlight and his hat in his hands; but the policemen were soaking wet.

- Tried to have a look around, - one of them explained guilty. Branström nodded in some kind of disarray and shrugged.

- I'm sorry, Larsson. We've found nothing there except of few teeth and tyre traces, - he said, looking even more guilty than wet policemen behind him. Gunvald glared at him impatiently and slammed his hands upon one of the working desks, groaning.

- Maybe there were no blood, - Ingemar tried, quietly. - She wasn't killed here and died a bloodless way.

Gunvald Larsson didn't respond. Rönn could hear a silent _donnerwetter_ from him, then the blond man pushed aside the table and moved into Lennart Kollberg's office again, ignoring the office owner's objections.

- Here we go again, - Kollberg complained. Einar Rönn gazed at him and returned to his phone calls. Branström approached the other detectives, sent his wet policemen to change their clothes and pulled his hedgehog-like hair back.

- There was nothing, just nothing, - he told with apologizing in tone. Lennart shook his head, burying his hands deep in his pockets.

- During the previous case Larsson was the only one not to give up the Sköldgatan fire case. He was right about it being not just an accident; but no one believed him at the first sight. But to see a corpse nobody else has seen… that's something else. I actually hope he's hallucinating, - he added after a short pause. Seeing Branström surprised, he said hastily: - Because catching a criminal in such weather conditions is kinda uncomfortable.

Ingemar couldn't agree more.

* * *

The night was surprisingly quiet. The storm even calmed down for a while, giving fourteen policemen a chance to move outside. Three of them used this chance; Skacke followed them later, thinking that it would be unnecessary for him to stay since Larsson arrived. Benny's chances of getting home safe decreased as a prodigious wind started to blow down the street. Some policeman wondered why it hasn't yet carried the cars outside away; then a loud crash sound followed his remark. Someone tried to open the window and it ended up with shattered glass and several cuts from that glass.

After some threats addressed to Gunvald Larsson's jacket its owner finally agreed to move back into his office, to great joy of Kollberg. Lennart had a habit of sleeping everywhere possible without choosing; good habit for his sleep but also terrible for his back. Never reckoning on the negative side, this night was also slept over the working desk. Larsson himself could be heard measuring his office with rhythmic steps before the midnight. Then the steps became less loud and fainted away at about 2 a.m. Ingemar Branström fell asleep just as he had drunk a cup of coffee, showing off the coffee machine efficiency. Other policemen were spread across the fourth floor doing their own business.

The only one who wasn't intended to sleep anyway was Einar Rönn. The muster results were not promising – after the last hurricane-like wind there were only three police stations still capable of connecting with Kungsholmsgatan. Rönn was trying to connect someone outside Stockholm to ask if the storm was to die away. But even without that he knew this call wouldn't make much difference. He rubbed his eyes and turned back to the reports. There was a bunch of them when he only started to work on Monday morning; most of them were finished, and Rönn had to fill only four or five left. He was sleeping whole Wednesday morning and staying awake for Thursday night wouldn't be a problem.

The shattered window at the left wing of the fourth floor costed ten men a damn potent draught; half of them had to move onto third floor because of rain noises and wind blowing from the shattered window. It was almost 2:30 a.m. when they did so – Einar Rönn looked up at the wall clock as they left. Then he continued working, and as nothing moved within next few hours, he wasn't controlling the time. He finished working, checked the time – it was 4:58 a.m. – and walked out out to see what he could do with the broken window. As he approached it; the wind nearly knocked him down and cold air broke in but he stood still, holding onto the frame and getting cut from broken glass, too. After taping his right hand up Rönn returned to the window. His eyes caught a slight movement at the other end of fourth floor but he related that to sleepless night and turned away, looking at the window.

When he came back to his working desk, he couldn't tell if anything changed. The wall clock was showing 5:31 a.m. and Einar Rönn finally decided to finish his "night duty" and get some sleep. No one returned from the third floor, and he really wasn't worrying about it. Falling asleep, Rönn already couldn't catch low steps coming towards the stairwell.


	4. Chapter 4

It was almost 8 a.m. at Thursday when Lennart Kollberg had finally torn himself off the working desk with a great reluctance. As he glanced to the window, an unusually bright light had temporary blinded him, making him groan. However, he looked up at the window again and couldn't believe his eyes. It was the sunshine, after three days of continuous raining, wind and other nasty things terrorizing Stockholm from very Monday.

Kollberg sat still for a second or two. Then he slapped his forehead with left hand and hurried to find the coat, but as soon as he did it, that priceless sunlight beam had disappeared into deep grey clouds. Lennart Kollberg made a deep sigh and left his office, grumbling.

When he looked out, he was a bit surprised about how "much" people left here – only Ingemar Branström, a young policeman and Einar Rönn, who was the closest one to approach from Kollberg's office. Branström woke up half an hour ago and was writing something; as he saw Lennart Kollberg, he waved him with a "good morning". The policeman and Rönn, on contrary, were sleeping. The policeman's name was Nils Nordin, he arrived with Ingemar Branström and had one of his first working days. "Not the best experience to start with", Lennart thought, remembering his own experience which was not the best, too.

Approaching Rönn, he looked up on the wall clock – 8:04 a.m. Then he turned his head towards Gunvald Larsson's office. The door was closed just like yesterday night when Kollberg finally managed to get his own office back from his colleague. He smirked and moved away to Ingemar Branström who was now trying to get his morning coffee from the machine but it seemed to have another opinion about morning coffees.

- Damn thing, - he complained as Lennart Kollberg came up to him. – No breakfast today. I wonder if this thing is ever going to end.

- Why didn't you move out with the others? Those three and Skacke, they must be at their homes, drinking tea and watching family movies. I wish I could do the same, - Lennart sighed. Ingemar nodded a couple of times and stepped away from the coffee machine.

Things went sour for the next hour and a half. Nordin woke up, too, but it didn't give detectives much use; more like someone else complaining about a lack of coffee. Kollberg's thoughts drifted away to yesterday evening and Larsson's sudden showing up. Among the present weather, it was twice as unexpected. Why would he go to the police management on Kungsholmsgatan if he lived in the opposite part of Stockholm? If he saw the body _here_ – considering him all right and not lying – then he had another reason of coming here, but he wasn't spreading it around. Kollberg couldn't think of a reason; even after all they worked with, he still couldn't predict some part of Gunvald Larsson's behaviour.

When the thoughts became unbearable, Lennart Kollberg stood up and headed to Larsson's office. Standing before the door, he knocked. Twice, thrice – no response. He looked into keyhole, but the key seemed to be inserted from the inside. Mumbling curses, Kollberg pushed the door forward, breaking into the office and seeing no one inside. The key was really put into the keyhole; he took it out and dropped into his pockets. No notes were left, no addresses, nothing at all. It was like Gunvald Larsson had just disappeared from the room.

Lennart Kollberg jumped out of the office and moved towards Einar Rönn. He shook him a couple of times till the sleeping man groaned, waking up.

- Einar, did you see Larsson leaving his office? – he asked impatiently. Rönn looked at him with reproach in his sleepy eyes, trying to understand what question he was just asked. Or maybe that was not a question at all.

- Lennart, I finished working at half without six. If Gunvald left, it happened when I passed out, but not during the time I worked, - he tried to explain. He didn't understand why Kollberg was suddenly interested in Larsson, he didn't know what happened - he just wanted to sleep an hour or two more. Lennart nodded several times and then darted off towards the stairwell. Rönn shrugged and glanced at Larsson's open office door. It took him a minute to realize what might be the cause of Lennart's questions, but he took it as a normal thing. Gunvald Larsson would always do something unpredictable without warning anybody; they got used to it.

* * *

- Vanished!

That was the first word Ingemar Branström had heard after half an hour. Kollberg was approaching him fast; his face expression was between enraged and vexed.

- Who, where? – Branström responded, leaving his writing work. Lennart glared at him and took a deep breath.

- We did not believe him, so he decided to get lucky and prove it all. Damn it, what is he thinking about? – he blew up. Ingemar shrugged, not really knowing how to react.

- If Larsson was so sure about that woman… maybe there is a chance she _was_ real? Five missing redheads… that's damn many, - Nils Nordin said quietly. This was his first chance to say something, and he did so.

- It's Stockholm we're working in, - Lennart Kollberg grumbled. – Nothing unusual these days.

The room went silent again. Only a low sound of Einar Rönn snuffling could be heard.

- What is that you're writing? – Kollberg asked suddenly, pointing at Branström's notebook. Its owner smiled and opened the first page. There was a picture of a young woman, drawn with a blue ballpoint pen. Her hair was curly, eyes closed.

- I've been speculating a bit, - Branström explained. – Redheads usually have curly hair, and Larsson described her as a young one, about 25 years old. I have got a habit to draw things I think about.

- I haven't got such habit, - Lennart responded without much interest. Nordin wasn't interrupting this conversation.

* * *

At the end of Thursday one policeman from the third floor returned to fourth. He complained about lack of offices and heaters. Rönn was listening to him without visible caring; as the policeman fell silent, Einar pointed at Martin Beck's office, saying it is spare and someone left a sleeping bag inside. Not listening to policeman's thankfulness, he rubbed his forehead and looked around. Silence had fallen here; nobody was typing, calling, shouting or even talking to each other. Lennart Kollberg finished fretting and fuming at approximately 4 p.m.; by that time he had already checked every piece of paper left on Gunvald Larsson's table and had done phone calls by all the numbers left on those papers. Larsson had seemed to be checking the missing redhead women last night; all the numbers belonged to their mothers, boyfriends or children. Some had more than one number; under each of them there was a little note written in fast and inpatient handwriting.

Lennart found out only that two of the missing women were single – one divorced, - two more were not 16 yet and one had a two years old child. Both underage redheads had boyfriends and both boyfriends didn't know where their girls are. Kollberg himself was quite sure that they were lying or the girls have found a better company than their family. No, they could not be those who Larsson described.

The divorced woman lived at Dalagatan, 104 with her mother and was working as a nurse in the central hospital. The only way she would die was a night robbery or living long, according to her description. So Kollberg had put her aside as well.

But as he had asked a bit more about the single woman, his mind started to brighten. Her name was Annette Levard, she lived at Järntorgsgatan, 20, was 27 years old and worked as a clerk at a small telephone station. Her father had come to the police management at Saturday morning, telling that Annette hasn't called him for the third day already although she usually calls him everyday to say good morning. Lennart Kollberg remembered that this case had been given to Gunvald Larsson, but as he left the police management that day, the case was transmitted to Melander. Well, Kollberg thought, seems that now Larsson decided to get down to business.

He wasn't really worrying about his colleague. From time to time, Lennart reminded himself about the antipathy they share. He was worrying more about those who Gunvald Larsson went to visit. Knowing him, some people would end up breaking several bones.

But as the wind speed increased again, his faith in Larsson's inflexibility fainted hour by hour.


	5. Chapter 5

_Gettign a bit of dialogues, finally. I honestly wasn't thinking about the plot much; I wonder what it turns into._

* * *

Friday morning looked very much like Monday's. The raining almost went away, but prodigious wind was blowing the whole night, keeping everybody from going outside.

No one was expecting Gunvald Larsson to come back, and he hadn't - neither at the night, nor the morning and afternoon. Kollberg noted sarcastically that he would have probably gone home long time ago; Einar Rönn hadn't commented. Nordin and Branström didn't know what Larsson could have done during a day and a half, so they kept silence about it.

This day had passed without anything serious happened. During the "lunch break" when people from the fourth floor had come down to the dining room, those five policemen from the third floor suggested to play Mafia. Ingemar Branström agreed to that; Nils Nordin was quite skeptical about it but also decided to join. Lennart Kollberg shook his head and finished his cookie pack, then stood up and left the dining room. Rönn hadn't come there at all, saying he has got his own emergency ration.

After four and a half days of continuous waiting Kollberg finally admitted that he was bored. Nobody would come to a police station; nobody would go outside to ask about the case. He tried to call home again but found out that the telephone line was now dead.

- Hell of a lucky! - he shouted in despair, looking at the phone; the cry rolled away to the other end of the floor and caused Einar Rönn to check his colleague.

If there was something good happening, it was not Stockholm; at least right now.

It was almost 9 p.m.; the fourth floor of the police management had become empty - even Rönn had now come down to the dining room. He was asked to be the narrator of Mafia game as he didn't want to be a player himself. Everyone else had also come there, excluding only one - Lennart Kollberg.

He was now sitting in Larsson's office, alone, contemplating his own notebook, all scribbled with words and telephone numbers. As his own phone was also dead now, he thought being in this office is not forbidden, even though Larsson's phone wasn't working even before.

Kollberg was thinking about the missing redheads, again. About Annette Levard, about divorced Asa Bergsson, about Greta Malstrom's daughter who only turned 2 last week; even about those two teenagers. Having the telephone line down, he couldn't even check if they came home after their dipsomanias or narcotic trances. Maybe some of them has been murdered by her boyfriend and he's keeping silence.

Lennart didn't like this theme much and switched to Levard. A normal woman, working and living a normal life. Why would she suddenly end up dead in the parking lots on Kungsholmsgatan? And if she wasn't killed here, then where else?

He had insensibly started to fall into sleep. The storm outside the window came back with the night; it started raining again but it was rather spontaneous then previous days. Lennart Kollberg yawned several times and looked into the fourth floor outside Larsson's office. There was only a reading-lamp left as a light source across the whole floor and the darkness enveloped the placement with a tight fog.

Almost an hour has passed before someone else had entered the fourth floor. Kollberg was sleepy enough not to notice unsteady steps coming towards the offices from the stairwell. His eyes were blurry with sleep enough not to see a tall figure standing at the door and leaning on the doorjamb. Lennart only managed to focus on the stranger after a few moments - and got his face grabbed by large strong hands, the stranger's face right in front of his.

- _Don't sleep at the work_, - he said slowly, each word separately from the others. Kollberg's sleep disappeared in a second; he flinched and seized the man's wrists.

- …the hell you are thinking about, Larsson?! - he flared up, squeezing the other man's hands tighter. Suddenly, embarrassment came in with understanding of what an unambiguous position they were in. - Get your hands off my face, - Lennart Kollberg asked indignantly; but then, as he gazed into Larsson's eyes, he got as if deafened.

- You have got an interesting face, - the response followed. It didn't make face's owner feel better at all.

- Interesting in what? Your condition bothers me, Larsson, - Kollberg answered fast. He wasn't lying - he would never expect such behavior. His opponent seemed to get this thought and had removed his hands from the other man's cheeks.

- I don't see a reason to bother about, - Gunvald Larsson said, taking the opposite chair to Kollberg's.

- I do, then. What was that, why were you going out and why have you come back?

- Mm-hmm, - the answer was. Larsson was in obviously not a normal condition; Lennart noticed it at the moment he saw his eyes close - mydriatic pupils were not contracting at the light.

- Are you drugged? - Kollberg said finally; his voice was trembling a bit.

- Are you frightened? - Larsson contraposed. The other man didn't find what to answer. Well, he would obviously tell his honest opinion about the situation but not now and not to Larsson.

- I am surprised, Gunvald, not frightened, - Lennart Kollberg tried, staying low in voice. - Your behavior is strange and your condition is without any doubts-

- Am I attracting, Lennart? - he suddenly inquired. Kollberg froze as he heard this question. He could clearly see that his colleague is _not_ all right; he was currently trying to think of ways to help or to get away from the office without getting caught. But the question surprised him greatly.

- Attracting in what way? I am not a valuer, Gunvald, and I've never been one. Especially in this category, - he added quickly. As the last part of sleep escaped his mind, he could examine his opponent more mindfully. Gunvald Larsson was wearing a white shirt, long maroon tie had been thrown over a shoulder; suit jacked was carried the same way. He had no coat put on or held, even though there was no coat left in his office. His eyes shined in an unhealthy way; the pupils expanded to the point of almost covering the iris. There was one more detail which Kollberg had surprisingly noticed the last - two deep scratches, one above the left eyebrow, one on the left cheek. Lennart sighed deeply, stood up and headed to the door when a strong grip had tightened his hand.

- Where are you going? - the voice followed. It sounded somewhat frightened, but maybe Lennart Kollberg was frightened enough to think so.

- Outside. I need something to… to help you, - he finished with an effort. - Let me go.

- Do not! - Larsson insisted. - Do not leave, they might come and-

- And what? I need to get the first aid kit and treat your injuries. Will you let me go now? - Kollberg snapped out, irritated. Gunvald Larsson looked at him for a second or two, and then released his grip. Lennart glared at him and moved out as fast as he could.

Finding the first aid kit was not a problem, but one on this floor lacked of iodine and roller-bandage after several people getting cut from broken window. That's why Lennart Kollberg needed to move down to the third floor, find the kit there and grab the needed ingredients back up. But all this had taken only fifteen minutes, and he stood near the shattered window to pass the time.

Kollberg didn't want to come back. He told that to himself seven or eight times, hoping that this is a reason enough not to go. But as he thought about Rönn or anyone else talking about this situation later, he could easily hear them saying words "duty perform failure". Of course, being near drugged Gunvald Larsson didn't count as a duty from the police point of view, but from social…

When he decided to stop complaining and come back, the wall clock above Rönn's working desk was showing 10:42 p.m. Lennart sighed again - not for the last time - and moved towards the lightened office.

Gunvald Larsson was still there, already sitting at his own place - behind the table. As he heard Kollberg's steps approaching, he looked up, his eyes still shining, and smiled at him. Lennart Kollberg would doubtfully forget this smile easily; he forced himself to make a nice face in response and moved closer to the other man.

- Now, I beg you, don't move. Don't do anything unless I say that, - he said, sounding like a school teacher to a naughty child during a tour. Larsson, in return, nodded three or four times; Lennart was satisfied by that. He put his ammunition on the table, opening a roller-bandage pack and tearing apart some of that roll. As he did so, he took one part and wiped the blood from above the left eyebrow. Larsson wrinkled at that; Kollberg didn't pay attention and started to treat the scratches' edges. Gunvald Larsson was flinching as the iodine touched his skin; after one of these flinches he had stained Kollberg's shirt with blood.

- Oh, Gun will think I'd been in a battle when I come home, - he complained, joking. However, he caught Larsson's interested look in him and added crossly: - My wife, Gunvald, not you.

- Why not me, - Larsson told without any tone in his voice.

- Because you are not her.

- Am I worse?

- By many criterias.

- For example?

- Well... She looks better, she sounds better, she smiles better, she is my son's mother, she smells better and, - he made a pause, - she is obviously better in bed.

- It sounds like you'd want to test it, - Larsson smirked. Lennart had already got the feeling of comparing Gunvald Larsson and his wife Gun and thought that this must be ended as soon as possible.

- If it'll make you feel better, you're also better at something. Shooting, fighting, questioning, being a policeman - yes, even though I don't think you're great as a policeman I'm sure you're better at this than my wife. Satisfied?

Instead of answer, long hands had grabbed him around the waist. Lennart Kollberg didn't try to fight that much - it wouldn't be useful, and Larsson didn't move, so he could finish bandaging. After taping the last band-aid, he sighed and looked at the sitting man.

- Gunvald, let me go, - he said. No reaction. He repeated his request more demandly, getting an unwilling response with a heard groan.

- Are you leaving? - Larsson asked quietly, no hope in his voice. The standing man glanced at him, then turned around and answered:

- I need to find a sleeping bag for you.

- But are you leaving for the night? - an impatient question followed. Lennart rolled his eyes and shook his head, then left the room again. He soon got back, carrying one sleeping bag.

- We're lucky, they still have not come back from their Mafia game, - Kollberg murmured.

- Where is yours? - the question was obviously referred to the sleeping bag.

- I'm not gonna sleep in this thing. I'm fine with the working table, - he answered, less irritated than he would sound before, and gave the sleeping bag to Gunvald Larsson.

After a few minutes of setting up and pulling Larsson's long legs into the sleeping bag, the room fell silent. Lennart Kollberg turned out the last light source - the reading-lamp - and put his head down the table. He was already starting to fall into sleep again, but before that he heard a silent voice coming from the sleeping bag behind him.

- Good night, - the voice said. Lennart wondered, once again, the way this voice had changed.

- Go to hell, Gun, - he muttered, burying his face into his notebook. The voice didn't answer; its owner would doubtfully hear the last sentence. The rain behind the window now sounded more like a goodinght song for two unfortunate detectives.


	6. Chapter 6

Sun wasn't shining this morning. The storm, however, left only the last hurricane behind itself, when the rain finally died away completely.

Einar Rönn had spent this night at the second floor. The Mafia game wasn't exhausting, but he soon started mixing up the data; an hour after midnight he had told excuses to other policemen and left the dining room. He wasn't happy with the game; he was taking it as a temporary profession for himself and didn't feel guilty for leaving the others. At the end, he needed to sleep well for at least this night.

It turned 10:00 a.m. when Rönn came back to the fourth floor. He noticed the unusual silence among the placement and remembered that Kollberg must had been alone here whole night. But as he was coming closer, Rönn started to feel somewhat different.

The door to Larsson's office was opened. Lennart Kollberg was still sleeping at the same place; his peaceful sniffing could be heard from the corridor. Einar Rönn stepped into the office, trying to behave as quiet as he could. Kollberg was sleeping at the table; however, there was an empty sleeping bag lying on the floof behind him. Lennart was lying face on his notebook but there were some more notes on papers, torn out of different notebooks. One paper had caught Rönn's attention; it was all scribbled with something looking like a databank record about someone. He took the paper and looked at it; four red letters were written ahead of all other information. Einar Rönn looked through the paper, finding out it was Lennart Kollberg's file copy. Everything had been written down carefully in fast and impatient handwriting, someone was hurrying in writing and letters were small. Rönn looked closer at the red letters; at the sentence saying "Married with Gun Kollberg" the first name was added by _vald _and he had been surprised 'just a bit'. A red felt-tip pen was lying in front of Kollberg's head; the sleepind man moaned, stretching his bones out, and raised his head up.

- Good morning, - he told Rönn, yawning. The other man nodded tranquilly and showed him the paper, watching Lennart's face turning from pale to red in no time.

- I did not do that, - Kollberg said hastily, cathing Einar's look on the felt-tip pen. - Larsson got back last night, - he explained then. - You were lucky not to be here when he did.

- Was I? - Rönn repeated without much surprise. Lennart Kollberg shook his head and stood up, leaving the working desk and then thr office. Rönn followed him, sniffing; his running nose was continuous at any season.

They were heading to the other end of the floor, looking into the offices. Branström returned here just now and was trying to phone somewhere; Kollberg signed him with a cross, letting him know it's no use. Nodrin seemed to be on the third floor with other policemen; he was playing surprisingly good last night and got at least one friend amongst Stockholm colleagues.

- Who are you looking for? - Branström asked, looking out of someone's office.

- Stay away, Östhammar, Stockholm's in charge, - Lennart Kollberg said in jest, passing him by.

Einar Rönn moved a little further and called Kollberg from the other cabinet - the one that was used as a restroom for visitors. He was standing at the door, when Lennart approached the room and stopped behind him.

Gunvald Larsson hadn't changed much from the last night; at least Kollberg could tell so. Two band-aids were still there, as well as the white shirt and maroon tie; though the headband appeared just now. He was sitting on a coach, elbows on knees, and his chin on his hands. As Einar Rönn and Lennart Kollberg entered the room, they noticed a red _dummkopf_ written across the headband. Larrson hadn't paid attention to them, staring at one point.

- Dummkopf, - Rönn read.

- Dummkopf, - Kollberg summarized.

- Dummkopf, - Larsson admitted, falling silent again. Two standing men were staring at the sitting one; it was 10:42 a.m. and the storm was just now saying its 'big goodbye'.

Ten minutes later Einar Rönn was sitting at the opposite coach to Gunvald Larsson and tried to ask him questions. Lennart Kollberg shared Rönn's coach and attempted to view Larsson's face with a variable success. So far he had seen a great remorse mixed with dehydration. The eye pupils contracted to two points; Larsson's look stopped at one point behind Rönn and didn't move anywhere else.

- I repeat, Gunvald, - Einar said as calmly as possible, - where have you been during Thursday and Friday, why have you got bandages on your face and that… - he stumbled, - word on your forehead.

- Ask Kollberg, - was the answer. The said person resented.

- If you don't remember the last day, it doesn't mean I have to explain everything instead of you, - he stated.

- I _do_ remember the last day, - Larsson cut off. Lennart felt a cold sweat on his back and realized why his opponent looked so regretful.

- How much? - he asked without any tremble in his voice.

- Enough. Have you got any water left? I feel terribly dehydrated, - Gunvald Larsson complained. Rönn nodded, stood up and left the room, heading to the dining room and leaving two detectives alone.

Lennart Kollberg moved onto Rönn's place and took the same position as his opponent did.

- By _enough _you certainly mean _not everything_, - he said cautiously.

- I mean what I say, Kollberg, and _enough _is _everything._

_- _Mm-hmm. Do you remember writing this? - Lennart pointed at Larsson's forehead.

- I did it this morning.

- Oh. And what about this? - this time he took a scribbled paper out of his pocket and put it in front of Gunvald Larsson.

- This was written between 1 and 2 a.m. I didn't get to sleep well somehow and was wondering across the floor. Hadn't met anyone, fortunately. And when it became boring as well, the thought of reading came into my drugged mind. The first file was yours, and...

- I can guess the rest, - Kollberg said as if reflexive, finishing the opponent's sentence.

Few minuted passed in silence.

- How have you been drugged? - Lennart asked at last, breaking the silence. Gunvald Larsson looked at him a bit confused.

- It appears that I remember everything happened _after_ I've been drugged but not _before_, - he finally said, unsure in tone. Lennart Kollberg nodded, still looking at the paper on the table.

- Then it has something to do with the woman. It seemes she was real after all. I am, er, sorry for not believing, - he tried, sounding more determined than he really was. Larsson was alive - though in stress and slight amnesia - and that gave him a chance to understand the situation at least just a bit.

- Aha. I remember leaving the police management to find everything out and ended up with twice more unknown.

- There is a reason you wrote a "fool" on your forehead, - Kollberg commented with sarcasm.

- I wrote it after my memory gave me a special injection of _what happened last night_, - Gunvald answered, head lowered; it was clear that he was not joking. Lennart Kollberg sighed, looking down.

- Did the drug make you fantasise, or your tongue just slipped? - he asked, making it sound like a meanwhile question. Larsson raised his head and looked at the opponent but didn't manage to answer; Einar Rönn had entered the room, holding a bottle of water.

- Here you go, - he said, giving it to Gunvald Larsson and watching him drying a half at one gulp. - Have you remembered anything?

- Old times, - Kollberg murmured. - How's the storm, Einar?

- Down. Seems we can now go back to working on foot until the telephone line gets revived, - he answered without much optimism in voice. Working on foot meant walking street by street, asking everyone about what's happened in last few days; then coming back at the end and sharing the results because they couldn't do it via broken phone line. Walking wasn't much attractive for Rönn; that was one of the reasons he was not happy.

- Ugh. Well, not the first time, - Lennart Kollberg responded as delighted as possible, though his face was showing quite opposite. - I think we can now handle Larsson's neverwoman case.

The said detective smirked at this.

At 12:00 of Saturday all policemen left on Kungsholmsgatan were put together at the second floor of the police management. It was chosen for a bigger meeting room and most comfortable temperature all over the building. Gunvald Larsson crowned the long meeting table; ten other policemen were sitting by two sides of this table. Rönn and Branström were the closest to Larsson; Kollberg was sitting next to Rönn, looking at the speaker quite skeptic; next to Branström there was Nils Nordin with a notebook, ready to make notes.

- That's it, gentlemen, - Gunvald Larsson started, sounding kingly. Someone would consider him looking like a member of Swedish royal family without his bandages and the headband which he demonstratively left on. Seeing the red letters, other policemen gossiped at first but had fallen silent as Larsson glared at them.

- Two disappeared redhead women are our persons of interest. Annette Levard and Asa Bergsson, both single, both 25-30 years old, both are matching the description. The description, by the way, is this, - he knocked on the table behind him; there was a sheet of paper, all covered up with red letters, some words struck out. – A woman, approximately 25-28 years old, average height, very thin, pale skin, medium curly ginger hair. No hematomas at the first sight, no sign of blood losses.

- What was she dressed like? – Nordin interrupted as he stopped recording. Gunvald Larsson looked through the words written in red.

- She was… naked? Yes, that's right – she was naked, - he answered a bit unsure. – I will go on. During the night I came here – that was Wednesday if I'm correct; - I have done a ton of phone calls finding out who are those five missing women.

- I've done them too. All of them, - Kollberg commented without much pride.

- Then Lennart Kollberg must know that only two match our criteria, and that's Levard and Bergsson. Levard is a 27 years old clerk at a private telephone station. She lives alone, owns no pets, her parents died in a car accident in—

- Wait. Her father came here himself and claimed about his daughter's disappearance, - Lennart interrupted again. – Are you sure you are alright? That's important data, and you're mixing it up.

- But I remember that. She was a… oh, wait. She was adopted at 12 and then… yes, that's irrelevant. All right, her father, I honestly didn't care much about him.

- He came here last Saturday morning. Annette Levard's case had been given to you, Gunvald, but you left soon and they transferred it to Fredrik, - Rönn inserted.

- Melander? Oh, how we could forget about him! Where is he? – Kollberg exclaimed. – His memory could be the best help for us right now.

- He left Stockholm on Monday morning, - Gunvald Larsson claimed darkly. – I phoned him to ask something and got an answer from his neighbor.

- I hope we can handle without Melander, - Ingemar Branström said, trying to sound optimistic. No one really shared his optimism. After Larsson had told the others everything he could recall and the additional information about what he had seen before coming to Kungsholmsgatan, the policemen got the hump. Everyone understood that Stockholm had just passed through a horrible storm; no one had ever gone out during such weather and could not testify anything. That was an ideal time for any ideal crime.

But, as Martin Beck once said, every crime is ideal at the beginning.


	7. Chapter 7

Things went sour for the first half of Saturday. Since everyone had been given a task, there was no one left on Kungsholmsgatan. Only the radio was capable to communicate properly but with huge interferences. So, fairly speaking, everyone was on their own.

The first one to come back was Lennart Kollberg; he had been sent to Åsa Bergsson's mother who lived on Dalagatan. That was a very nice old woman; Kollberg spent an hour with her, drinking tea and smelling aloe on the window-stills. And asking questions, of course. He found out that Åsa completely matched the description he had got from the hospital and the database. But, as we all know, the quiet one is the worst enemy, so Kollberg wasn't relaxing much.

The next one to get to Kungsholmsgatan was Nils Nordin. As he was a newbie, he'd been ordered to go to the archive and get up all redhead women murdered within last ten years. He came back not with a giant pile of files but with three or four thin folders; then he sat down at the conference room and waited for the others to come.

Three hours later five policemen returned at once; they had all been going through streets near Kungsholmsgatan, their work wasn't much difficult, but it was huge. They came back, talking and looking kind of happy for some reason, even though they were working overtime.

Then Ingemar Branström came, half an hour after. He looked quite exhausted; his task was to lift up all last records related to drug delivers. There was more than enough fot him, and he looked as if disorientated right now. Lennart Kollberg thought something about Östhammar's police practice but didn't say it aloud. His catch, however, was weighty, and he was looking forward to tell it to the others.

The very last one was Gunvald Larsson; Kollberg already mentioned sarcastically that he'll come back two days after again but this expectation wasn't confirmed. Larsson returned at 6 p.m.; he had - thanks God - taken off the headband before coming out. His task was to visit Mr Levard and ask questions about his adopted daughter. He provoked to go there himself and now looked quite delighted; it seemed his catch was also good.

- So, - Lennart Kollberg started when everyone was on their places at the table. - I think I'll be first. Åsa Bergsson, a central hospital nurse, 25 years old. Lives with her mother, Lena Bergsson, 51 years old. Mrs Bergsson tells everything positive about her daughter, - and that's expected, of course - she had finished the school with the highest grade, then the medical college and wasn't able to find a good practical job. That's why she's now a nurse. Nothing special. The father's name is Gunnar Bergsson, he had left the family six years ago. Nothing is known about him, Bergssons don't communicate with him much.

- An oversight, - Gunvald Larsson commented. Kollberg glared at him.

- Well, I'm sorry. If you need to know more about him, go ahead and make a visit, he lives on Odengatan.

- I did. He has left his flat four months ago, according to his neighbors, and went somewhere to North America. I told it was your oversight.

- Oh, damn, - was all Lennart answered.

Einar Rönn raised his hand slowly, and the starting conflict fainted.

- I guess it's my turn, - he said queitly. - As I've been told, I went to the telephone station that Annette Levard works at. She is a hardworking one, but during the last two months she was leaving an hour earlier than usual. Her colleagues asked her about it, and Ms Levard kept silence and smiled. That's the exact formulation. She wasn't very popular among the male part of the collective, and the female part says that she couldn't have a boyfriend. Your turn, Gunvald, - Rönn finished, nodding to Larsson's side. The said detective stood up, opened his notebook and coughed.

- Rolf Levard, 50 years old, known as Rolfous the Great. Former wrestler in medium category. Fifteen years ago was married with Agatha Levard, together adopted a 12 years old girl, Annette Bergson. Mr Levard himself is a conservative person, keeps few fishes in an aquarium and isn't working anywhere. Since Mrs Levard died five years ago - on the fifteenth wedding anniversary - their daughter dispenses Rolf with everything and calls him every morning. A week ago Rolf Levard wrote an application about Annette's disappearance. He had told that she still hadn't come back. Annette Levard has no close friends and no relatives except of her grandparents with who she regularly communicates. I phoned them; they had confirmed that Ms Levard hadn't visited them for a month and a half already.

- Great. She has something to hide from the others and we don't even know what that is. Maybe criminal business, maybe she had really got someone, maybe that's just a reading club, who knows. But she is went missing and I don't think it's not connected to her evening comeaways, - summarized Kollberg. - By the way, Annette's surname before adoption was Bergson. Is there any connection with Åsa Bergsson?

- Doubtfully, - Rönn answered. - I've got Levard's file; nothing had been said about any other relatives when she had been adopted. No sisters, brothers, cousins.

- Naaagh, it could be a nice version, - Ingeman Branström groaned. He did the biggest part of the job and was fairly upset.

- Heads up. We're not looking for simple cases even though we'd like to have some, - Lennart Kollberg said in jest. - What's that you've got, by the way?

Branström groaned again, stretching his hands out, and opened the thick folder that was lying n the table in front of him.

- Seven large groups within last two years; five of them uncovered, two more exist as dissolved puzzles. One of this group had been based in Malmö; its leader is known as Kindly, 28 years old, cargo-loader. This group remains still within last year - no transactions and big operations noted. Kindly had left Malmö this summer as he went to Östhammar.

- Wow, I thought you were not popular at such things, - Kollberg murmured.

- We're usually not. But Kindly did nothing illegal to arrest him. He just lives a quiet life in his private house, like nothing happened.

- Sherlock Holmes lived like nothing happened after he had retired, too, - Einar Rönn inserted. - But he still was there when Britain needed him.

- I do not exclude him from the list. The second group consists of five or six drug dealers and mostly operates within age of 18-25. Last time that was three women and three men without a ruling clique, but who knows, they could change everything this year.

- And there were no redhead women, if that's the group I remember, - Larsson suddenly added. - What about murders, erm... what did you say your name is?

- Nordin, - the quiet answer followed. - A year ago, five years and nine years. Nine years ago a drunken sailor had murdered his wife Freja. Domestic crime, the sailor had got seven years. Five years ago – Isabella Eklund, eight years old, murdered by a sexual maniac. And last year – redhead twins, Sofia and Astrid Åkesson, both murdered during the exhibition robbery. They were taken hostages.

- So, there's no connection to our drug dealers and missing redheads, - Branström sighed.

- I disagree. It could have a connection to why a redhead was murdered. Any of these crimes could be a reason, - Gunvald Larsson said meaningfully. – Eklund, for example. She could be the murderer's childhood friend, daughter or someone else close, and the murderer is now trying to put up with it. Or he had drugged himself to hell, saw a woman that looked like his dead who-Eklund-was-for-him and murdered that woman.

- Larsson, you're fantasizing, - Kollberg commented with displeasure. – It could be far simpler. The drug dealers are somehow connected to Bergsson or Levard or to both of them. Then one of them makes a mistake and gets killed. The only question is – why had the corpse ended up here.

A low sound of knocking could be heard from the door, and a cobby man entered the conference room. He was holding a folder under his hand and correcting his glasses instantly.

- Sundbyberg, chief criminalist Norberg, - the visitor said dryly. – Here's your autopsy report, damn it.

The room went silent.

- But we didn't ask for any autopsy reports, - Einar Rönn said, breaking the silence. – Whose autopsy is this?

- Whose? It's written down here. Take it, and I'm leaving, - Norberg threw the folder on the table right before Nordin and left the room, waving his hand. Nils Nordin took the folder; as he was reading the cover, his face changed. Larsson stood up, moved towards him and took the folder away. His face changed the same way.

- Åsa Bergsson, - he said, gloomy in tone.


	8. Chapter 8

- Åsa Bergsson.

This name sounded like a thunder. Silence had fallen amongst the policemen for a minute or two. Then Gunvald Larsson threw the folder back on the table and rushed towards the doors. The others sat still; Lennart Kollberg took the folder and opened it. His face didn't change much while he was reading the report - not the first time.

Larsson, breathless, had caught Norberg on the first floor.

- I don't understand how else I can help you, - the criminalist started, irritated.

- You... in Sundbuberg, you've been ordered to bring an autopsy report. How long ago?

- Yesterday. I told that I'll bring it as soon as the storm ends, and here I am.

- So, the body was in Sundbuberg at Friday?

- No, at Thursday. We've found her at the parking lots, checked the missing women and found out her personality. What's the matter?

- At the parking lots? - Larsson reasked, watchful.

- Yes, at our police station. We - well, I did the autopsy and wrote a complete report about it, I gave it to you. Should we bring the body to you? - Norberg suggested. He didn't really care about the dead woman, and the unknown things started to bother him.

- Do it. It's... it's a missing person from our municipality. We'll do our job ourselves.

Norberg shrugged, waved him with a goodbye and headed to the exit.

- I can't believe it, - Kollberg said. - Four hours ago I talked to this woman, telling her that Åsa will get home safe, and then she gets a notification that her daughter is murdered and lies in the Sundbuberg morgue dissected.

- She already knows?

- Yes, it's attached here. They were too kind to give us a copy of her interrogation. Poor woman.

- Not the first time, - Gunvald Larsson said quickly. - She'll handle that, and we must handle this case.

- Mmh. Why did you chase that criminalist?

- To find out something.

- Will you share, then? - Nordin suggested.

- Oh. Åsa Bergsson lies in Sundbuberg's morgue since Thursday; it's just the storm that prevented us from knowing this before.

- And the broken telephone line, - Kollberg added angrily.

- So, we've got Åsa Bergsson dead from unknown reason and Annette Levard went missing. Any suggestions on what could happen to her? - Ingemar Branström summarized. Some policemen shrugged, and Nils Nordin shook his head.

- If Bergsson had been in Sundbuberg at Thursday, and Larsson had seen her at Wednesday evening, someone must have moved her, - he said slowly. - If she was here too, of course, and the woman here was not Annette Levard.

- At least someone is thinking, - Lennart Kollberg exclaimed.

- And what if I'd seen Levard? - Gunvald Larsson added with no praise in his tone. – The murderer could be a madman perhaps.

- Mm-hm. A madman who takes revenge on the policemen by killing redheads and leaving them at police stations. Maybe because of some redhead woman case the police hadn't detect in time. And now he murders women with the same phenotype. Symbolic. - Everything Kollberg said sounded quite sarcastic, but Larsson didn't get the joke.

- Good, good. We can take this as a possible scenario, - he mumbled, rubbing his chin. Lennart made an extremely tired face and turned away.

The conversation could have had ended right there if something totally unpredictable hadn't happened. Rönn went out to have a glass of water but was knocked down by something short, strong and burning red at the top. That something mumbled excuses, helped Rönn to stand up and followed fast into the conference room. Nine men stared at that something, speechless.

- I... I apologise, - something finally said. - You must have been searching for me across the city. I decided I have to come here myself. My name is Annette Levard.

The something was fully human and resembling a woman. At least that was what Lennart Kollberg decided before that something said its name.

- I'm sorry for asking this, but are you really sure you're Levard that we've been looking for? - Branström said cautiously. The woman's face burned with anger. But before she could respond in any way, Gunvald Larsson approached her fast and looked steady into her face. The woman caught quite a shock for that and was standing still until the blond man moved away.

- Seems that was Bergsson after all, - he muttered more to himself. Levard's face turned from red to white in no time.

- You said Bergsson? Åsa Bergsson, right? - she asked impatiently. Larsson glanced at her.

- Åsa Bergsson, right. Do you know anything about her?

- She's been murdered.

- How so?

- I asked that doctor who left you in a few minutes ago, - she confessed. Lennart Kollberg flared up after that.

- And he told everything just because a damn woman asked? Hell of a bonehead, - he blew up.

- At least he was polite enough not to call me a 'damn woman', - Levard responded.

- Tsch, let's get down to business. You surely _did_ know Bergsson if you asked about her, - Gunvald Larsson interrupted.

- Yes, she... she was my... younger sister.

This somehow didn't surprise Larsson and the others.

- But your file says nothing about this kind of relatives. And your foster-parents had no children except of you.

- I did have a relative. At least I've found that out three months ago, when my foster-father got drunk enough and was telling many things about my natural parents. He said my mother was irresponsible enough to get rid of me by hiding. Damn, I wish he was telling lies about her.

She went silent, holding something inside. Gunvald Larsson gave her a trial look.

- My mother's name is Lena Bergson. When we've moved to Sweden, that prodigious accident happened, and I've never seen Lena Bergson again. But I've heard about her just now, even though she'd changed her last name. Just one letter and a whole new life, hah.

Lennart Kollberg listened with a respecting silence. He had abandoned his previous tactics, fortunately for Levard and other policemen.

- Last month I've been checking my sister out. I was two when the car accident happened, and my mother was pregnant. I thought they all died, but now... - Annette stopped, collecting her thoughts. - Åsa was surprised to know about me. She's been told that _I_ have died in a car accident. But she was surprised in a good sense, fortunately. We've met every evening, saying we've got language studies or anything else like evening school.

- And what have you been doing during your meetings?

- Talking, mostly. We're two children of one woman who had never met each other, could you imagine this? We've had plenty to talk about. I've been asking her what her business is, and she once said about something additional besides the telephone station. Something secret, I guess. Åsa only mentioned that once and we've never talked about that again.

- Why exactly have you come here, Miss Levard? - Larsson finally said, feeling that time is wasted.

- I'm scared.

- That's why you went away from your foster-father's home?

- Yes. I didn't want him to get hurt because of my problems.

- Your problems?

- Someone's tracking me. I feel that by my very skin, mister...

- Continue.

- Åsa disappeared twelve days ago. She hadn't come to our usual meetings; at first I thought it's just an accident. But she wasn't there the next day and the day after that. I tried to contact her, nothing helped. And then... Then someone appeared, he was spying on me. I can't tell the gender of my follower, but that was somewhat maniacal. At last it became unbearable, and I decided to vanish into shadows. Then that storm started and I could pass the time, and now... now I'm here, praying for protection.

The policemen listened to her without interruption. As she finished her confession, some of them lowered their heads, thinking.

- We will give you the needed protection, Ms Levard, but firstly we need you to tell us everything about your meetings with Åsa Bergsson. - Nils Nordin's voice sounded unusually serious. Gunvald Larsson glanced at him and picked up the autopsy report.

- Here, - he opened the folder and showed the pictures to Levard. - Do you recognize her?

The woman looked astonished.

- Yes, that's Åsa, - she said after a couple of minutes. - How... how had she died?

Larsson took the folder back and turned few pages.

- Drugs overdose. Hmm, that's interesting. - Annette certainly didn't get these words, but Gunvald had made an invisible note to himself.

- We met on Odengatan every evening. Sometimes we ended up at different cafés, sometimes we were just walking down the streets.

- What address?

- Odengatan, 104... What do you need that for?

Larsson didn't answer that. He threw the autopsy report on the table - not the last time for today! - and put his jacket on. His coat had been lost to the streets of Stockholm few days ago.

- Nordin, Rönn, Branström, I need you to check every café and restaurant all Odengatan long. Kollberg will go with me. Emersson, arrange Ms Levard to Martin Beck's office.

Lennart Kollberg stood up, took his coat and headed to the exit, Larsson did the same thing.

- I only hope we're not going to fail this time, - Kollberg muttered, putting the coat on; Gunvald Larsson agreed inside. They both disappeared in the doorway, and no one in the conference room knew how long.


	9. Chapter 9

Ten minutes later two detectives were heading to Odengatan. Stockholm was familiar to both of them, but after the storm all the streets looked quite the same - fallen trees, corrupted telephone lines, even the crashed cars somewhere, and it was clear that they hadn't been crushed in car accidents. People looked out of the windows - certainly not believing that the storm is over. Some of them were happy; the others looked irritated, just like all is lost. Maybe they were right at some point.

- Are you sure this is Odengatan? - Lennart Kollberg asked after fifteen minutes of continuous silence. Gunvald Larsson was almost running - that's how fast his pace was.

- Of course I'm sure. See that house? It's Odengatan, 39. We've covered one third of the journey.

Kollberg mumbled something about the speed of their journey and tried to hurry. At Odengatan, 74, however, they both had to stop.

- Seelöwe, - Larsson read. - Why the hell did they keep this title.

He entered the café, leaving his colleague outside. Lennart expected everything but Larsson coming out about three minutes later, no new cuts appeared, holding some paper.

- You may keep it, - he said fast, giving that paper to Kollberg. The other man looked quite surprised.

- They gave you... an advertisement? - he asked, increasing pace after Gunvald Larsson.

- Mm-hm. A nice place on Dalagatan, damn it.

- Åsa Bergsson lived on Dalagatan, 104. Is it, by chance, the same place? - Kollberg asked, and then found the answer himself; the advert pointed on Dalagatan, 101. - Oh, not quite the same, but the street is completely different from ours.

As he was reading the paper, they moved on, and soon found ourselves near house number 98. Gunvald Larsson looked tensed, even though Lennart Kollberg felt quite peaceful. It was almost 8 p.m., the first day of good weather ended, leaving clouds of cold air behind.

Kollberg was wondering inside how Larsson managed not to shiver. Since he'd lost his coat, the only thing left on the shirt was the jacket which he surprisingly hadn't lost with the coat. Lennart himself wrapped in his coat with all his force; most of all he wanted to get back to his home to Gun and Joakim and sleep a day or two in a warm bed.

Most of his wishes didn't come true.

Instead of his favourite chair Lennart was sitting in cover next to Gunvald Larson, trying to make his teeth not to clench.

- Do you still hope someone will come here? - he said quietly when the time turned over 10 p.m. His colleague didn't respond, making no sound but breathing with clouds. - Oh, I wish I were-

- Quiet! - Larsson whispered and jammed Kollberg's mouth with his large hand. At this moment a tall man approached the building, wrapped into a long dark coat and carrying something resembling a suitcase. The man turned around a couple of times, went forward and entered the house. Just after that Larsson grabbed Lennart's sleeve and jerked towards the entrance, dragging him with no effort. The man didn't close the doors, fortunately, so entering wasn't a problem. The hall, however, was dark, and Kollberg had to turn on his flashlight to see at least something. As the light jumped from wall to wall, Gunvald Larsson went forward, listening to the possible movement behind the doors. He could hear different sounds, but he couldn't catch the needed one. Lennart Kollberg tried to listen too, but he couldn't get much success.

The building had only one floor, so the tall man couldn't manage to ger far. Suddenly a loud crashing sound tore the silence in the hall, and something broke out of the fourth apartment. It fled past both detectives, knocking Kollberg down with something looking like a hard glass bottle and heading to the exit. Larsson reacted at once, quitting eavesdropping, and flew right after the man. He caught him right before the exit; the man was trying to open the doors. He turned around, seeing the blond man, and started sobbing as their eyes met. Gunvald Larsson gave him a good hit in jaw, knocking him out, and then got back to check Kollberg's condition.

Lennart Kollberg, if he was conscious, would be happy for his habit of closing the doors. He was still unconscious when Larsson approached him, and a small haematoma appeared at the back of his head. Therefore Larsson ended up having two unconscious men and both of them needed to be delivered to the police station. Since the telephone line was down anyway, he went outside, walked past ten or eleven buildings and fould a left patrol car. "Good enough", he said to himself, starting the car engine.

* * *

It was nearly midnight when all the policemen returned to Kungsholmsgatan. Rönn, Branström and Nordin, as they've been told, had been going through all the restaurants on Odengatan, asking whether the waiters had seen Bergsson sisters. It turned out that every evening was closer to Odengatan, 104 than the previous one. Einar Rönn had even visited the Seelöwe café and heard some unpleasant things about tall blonde policemen; he was reproving Gunvald Larsson for that. Larsson had discharged them till the next morning; Annette Levard had been left in Martin Beck's office for night.

Lennart Kollberg woke up at exactly 12:10, feeling his head turned inside out and the back of the head pulsating. He was lying in his office, in someone's sleeping bag; when Kollberg tried to lift himself up, he felt suddenly dizzy and laid his head back on the floor. Though his vision was blurred, he could see a tall man sitting at the table and turning the pages of some file. His back was turned to Lennart, and something light - the hat or the hair - was on his head.

- What time is it? - Kollberg asked in unsteady voice. The man turned around and looked at him a bit cautious. Then he looked up on the wall clock.

- Fifteen after midnights, - he said. The voice sounded like a low-sounded bell in Lennart Kollberg's head, making him wince.

- You shouldn't have come there, - the voice remarked. - Did _you_ close the entrance doors?

- What doors? - Kollberg asked faintly. His mind was foggy; he couldn't quite understand even where he is now.

- The entrance doors on Odengatan, 104. Do you recognize where you are now?

- Ugh… On the floor of some office, in a- what is that, a sleeping bag?

- Good, good. Did you close the doors on Odengatan, 104?

- I… I guess so. What did he hit me with, a pipe?

- A bottle.

- Oh, great.

A long pause came.

- Seems it's still good that I came, - Lennart Kollberg said.

- Mm-hm.

- Where is that… whoever hit me?

- Locked on the second floor. I don't know if he's conscious or not. He matches Asa Bergsson's father's description so far.

- Bergsson's father... so he's Levard's father as well?

- I guess so.

A pause again. Kollberg hated it; silence near Gunvald Larsson seemed a natural disaster.

- Have the others returned? - he asked finally. - I mean, Rönn, Branström.

- I sent them all home.

- Why hadn't you sent_ me_ home? - Lennart Kollberg added sarcastically. Larsson turned away.

- I didn't want to make your wife worry, - he answered a while later. Kollberg didn't quite understand that; perhaps that's all because of the trauma.

- Mm-hm. Then why haven't _you _come home? I hope that's not connected to my condition.

- It's connected to the unconscious man and Levard.

- Ah, I see, - Kollberg said quickly. This theme should have been left, immediately.

- How about we wake the man up? - he suggested.

- How about _I _wake the man, - Larsson contraposed. - I doubt it your condition will even let you stand up.

- Oh, Dr Larsson, if you say so, - Lennart reacted sarcastically. However, he really couldn't even raise his head without dizziness and had to stay down. Gunvald Larsson nodded in approval and left the office.

Lennart Kollberg started to fall into sleep when a soft, trembling voice woke him, again.

- Are you all right? Mr Larsson said you've suffered from a head trauma.

- Ah, _Mr Larsson said_, - he answered, discontented. Why yes, tell everyone about my condition, bonehead.

- Yes. May I help you somehow? - the voice repeated. It belonged to Annette Levard and sounded like a light beam in the tight fog, but somehow disturbed Kollberg greatly.

- Are you having a sleepless night, Ms Levard? - he said, rubbing his forehead. The woman nodded slightly.

- Y-yes, just a bit... I don't know what to do, Mr Kollberg. I'm scared.

- I am not. "Though my head feels like a ship rotating in a storm", he thought.

- May I... spend some time with you? I'm really scared, - the voice sounded even more plaintive. Lennart Kollberg rolled his eyes and nodded slowly, feeling dizzy again. The woman darted into the room, sat at the table and crossed her legs. She had nice legs, Lennart had to admit.

Twenty minutes later Gunvald Larsson returned, leading a handcuffed man in front of him. The man's jaw was bleeding again; seemed that he was woken the nicest way. As he saw Levard sitting in the office, he frowned.

- Didn't I tell you to stay in your office? - he started, severe in tone. Annette looked guilty, even more guilrty than when she talked to Kollberg.

- Well, isn't the police management the safest place in the city? - she asked with innocence.

- The safest place is under the Prime Minister wife's skirt, - Larsson responded without joy in voice. - If I tell you to stay in the office, you will stay in the office. Now, do you recognise this man? - He pulled the bleeding man in the office. Lennart Kollberg lifted a little, looking surprised.

- Karl Kremensson, - he said.

- Father! - Annette Levard cried.

- I do not understand, - the man said, muffled.

- You will, - Larsson interrupted and made him sit down on the chair. - I want you to tell why were you running away from Odengatan, 104 this night.

- Well, this is my living place, - the man said quietly. - I came home late, as usual, entered my apartments and was going to go to sleep. Then I heard someone in the hall, thought about robbers and decided to go through. I'm sorry, I've hit someone with a whiskey bottle.

At these words Kollberg groaned and lifted up, taking a sitting position.

- What is your name?

- Karl Kremensson. You were right, sir, - the man said to Lennart. Levard flinched at this; her face grew red.

- If you don't have enough courage to face your daughter, you could at least leave the name correct! - she cried out; her face was burning red. Kremensson looked at her, astonished.

- Are you Gunnar's daughter, young lady? Oh, he's not telling me the whole thing all the time. - Larsson glanced at him, suspicious.

- Are you talking about Gunnar Bregsson?

- Yes, yes! He is my twin brother. When he left Sweden four months ago, I took his flat. We share the same face anyway, nobody sees the difference.

- So you live under your brother's name?

- Yes... Is that illegal?

- That's not our business. We'll give you to economic crimes department as soon as possible, - Gunvald Larsson cut off, making Kremensson lose spirit. - Have you ever seen Åsa Bergsson?

- Åsa? Of course, isn't that Gunnar's second daughter?

- What's the last time you've seen Åsa Bergsson alive?

- Aermm... last Sunday, I guess. I wasn't leaving my home after that storm began, and it began on Monday.

- What was she doing?

- I was going home and saw her in a restaurant... Kungsholm, I guess. They have large windows from floor to cellar, and Åsa was sitting right near the window with... some man, I think. Can't recall better.

- I hadn't met her that day, - Annette Levard confirmed.

-So it's someone unfamiliar to us, - Gunvald Larsson concluded. Then he moved to Karl Kremensson and got him up, still handcuffed.

- Maybe you'll take these off me? - Kremensson begged.

- Why should I? - Larsson said with slight innocence in voice. He took his prisoner back to the second floor, while Levard and Kollberg stayed in the office.

- I never knew my father had a twin, - she said after some time. Lennart Kollberg didn't respond. Larsson returned fifteen minutes later and moved Annette back to Martin Beck's office, saying it will be safer. Actually he just wanted to get her out of Kollberg's office.

- A twin brother? Do we even have a reason to trust him? - Lennart asked when Larsson returned.

- I trust no one at the first sight.

- Mmh.

Now they returned to awkward silence, once again.

- You asked me this morning about... something.

- Oh. - Kollberg didn't like this beginning. - You didn't lie about remembering everything.

- I didn't. You asked me if my tongue slipped or the drug made me fantasise.

- Oh, this?

- I thought about it.

- And what have you thought?

- It slipped. - The silence after this suddenly banged Kollberg's ears. There still was a huge bell in his head, tolling continuously and mixing the words up.

- I'm sorry?

- It slipped. Don't answer that, - Larsson said fast and left the office quickly. - Good night, - he added, and the words fainted in dense air.

Lennart Kollberg was sitting on the floor in a sleeping bag, looking in the hallway where Larsson's silhouette dissolved in darkness. The words still hadn't reached his injured mind, and Kollberg didn't want to find them out now. Gun would say that his best cure is now sleep, and he would agree that. As he drifted into night, the low bell sound became a little more quiet, bringing something Christian into the dream.


	10. Chapter 10

Sunday was just like Saturday - the same clear sky, even the sun shined brightly and caused Lennart Kollnerg to wake up. As he sat up, he noted to himself that the sleep helped indeed, and the dizziness was a lot easier than last evening. Kollberg even managed to stand up, getting out of the sleeping bag.

It was 6:30 a.m., and no one came back to work yet. Kollberg went part six offices and found Annette Levard in the seventh. The woman was sleeping still, sometimes sobbing. Tear traces could be seen on her face. Kollberg felt somewhat sorry for her situation, even thought she could similar to his wife, even though Gun's hair wasn't red.

Lennart Kollberg went further and noticed that the common room door was opened, but no one entered it yesterday. He looked in and saw Gunvald Larsson on the couch, snuggling; the blond man seemed to be sleeping. Since Kollberg had nothing to do anyway, he stepped in and sat in front of him; sitting still wasn't exciting so he started watching Larsson sleeping. He was lying his back to Lennart, making almost no noises. Kollberg suddenly remembered the last night, Kremensson's interrogation and talking to Gunvald Larsson afterwards. He couldn't quite remember everything, but some part stuck in his mind, something about a question answered.

- Slipped, - he said, suddenly loud. Larsson jerked and turned around harshly, looking at Kollberg with slight disorientation.

- Slipped, - Lennart repeated.

- Slipped. Wait, what?

Kollberg shook his head and stood up.

- Good morning, - he said finally.

- It's only half past six.

- You want to say a morning is never good?

- A morning is always mourning, - Larsson objected. - Leave the room, I want to sleep enough.

- I'd say goodnight, but I already said good morning, - Lennart said, laughing. His interlocutor looked at him quite not pleased and turned away, crossing legs.

- Anything else? - he asked irritated, when Kollberg hadn't left the common room after ten minutes.

- I'm not making noises. Why can't I just stand here?

- Then sit down.

* * *

Annette Levard woke up at about 8 a.m. because of loud sounds coming somewhere from the floor. She wasn't quite surprised that the coffee machine wasn't working, and went on with searching for anyone. When she'd reached the common room, she found out it was the source of sounds that woke her up.

Gunvald Larsson was sitting on the floor near the door and crackling his fingers with a remarkably hideous sound, at the same time talking about something in a loud voice. Lennart Kollberg seemed to be objecting everything his opponent was telling in a voice no lower.

- Gentlemen? - Levard asked timidly, but no one really heard this.

- We have to let Kremensson go.

- Let him go?! Had he hit your head enough to make you even more hell of a bonehead?

- Well, not enough to make me disappear for two days and come back drugged as hell, - Kollberg cried out, and silence banged his ears again. At this moment they've seen Annette Levard at the doors.

- Oh, good morning, miss Levard, - Lennart said hastily. - We apologize for waking you up.

- I do not apologize, it's already eight and she's still sleeping, - Larsson muttered.

- It's nothing. I could hardly sleep anyway. Can I, please, buy something for breakfast?

- Buy where?

- On the opposite street.

- You'll need a bodyguard, - Kollberg said. - Well, I need to have a walk anyway, so... after you, Ms Levard?

Larsson would have protested this, but no one listened anyway. When they'd left the police management, he stood up and went to the prisoner.

Karl Kremensson's condition was worse than last night. He was either ill or stressful; when Gunvald Larsson opened the office he was contained in, the prisoner prayed:

- I need medical help. Please, let me go.

Larsson shook his head.

- Only you would remove the handcuffs! - Kremensson cried.

- What kind of medical help do you need?

- Water, at least. Please, my hands hurt like something awful!

- Kollberg's head hurts, too, - Larsson muttered. He made the man stand up and led him out of the room. After that they've returned to the fourth floor, and then got to the broken window. At this place Gunvald Larsson had set the man free.

- It is the fourth floor, - he said. - You got your hands free, but watch out for broken glass and height.

Karl Kremensson nodded in confusion.

- Have you got anything anesthetic to relieve the headache? Aspirin, for example... I feel awful, - he complained.

- Maybe we've got. I'm not a doctor.

Kremensson almost blew up at this, but managed to hold his emotions. Larsson looked out through the window, seeing the store on the opposite street and Levard in front of it; he saw Kollberg standing and rubbing back of his head. Then Kollberg went to Levard and told her something; she smiled and paid for the buns. Lennart said something else, getting closer to the woman, and Larsson somehow felt aversion; but then a thing happened which he was truly surprised about.

He had only looked away for a moment. When he looked at the opposite street again, Lennart Kollberg was lying on the lawn, making an exceptionally painful face and holding the bandage that was on his head. Annette Levard couldn't be seen anywhere. At this moment Kollberg looked up, on the management building and cried all out:

- Larsson, watch your back!

Gunvald Larsson turned to his prisoner and was knocked down by the man. Karl Kremensson was holding a piece of broken glass in his hand and directed it to Larsson's neck with its sharp edge. The blond man froze for a second, driving Kremensson into confusion, and then attacked. Firstly an edge of the palm hit to disarm him, then changing the position by knocking _him _down. And at the very end - a hit to jaw.

- Oops, I did it again, - Larsson murmured a bit satisfied, stood up and looked into the window. Kollberg was still there, only that he now was sitting on a bench and still holding the back of his head. Larsson nodded and headed to the stairs, outside.

* * *

Lennart Kollberg was sitting in the common room, propping his chin up with one hand and holding an ice bag on the back of his head with the other hand. Gunvald Larsson had just returned from the first floor where the telephone station workers arrived to repair the telephone line. They were changing the cables, and Larsson was looking through the medical kit he found there. He put the band-aids and disinfections aside and extracted a small pill bottle.

- Aspirin, - he read. - Kremensson was in need of this a while ago.

- I doubt he needs it right now, - Kollberg smirked. Karl Kremensson was unconscious for already half an hour and he would unlikely wake up soon this time.

- How could I be so blind, - Larsson murmured.

- Uh, what?

- She is not Annete Levard, Lennart.

Kollberg looked surprised.

- Wait, what? You mean all this time we've been talking to someone else?

- Yes. When she was talking about her sister, she mentioned that Bergsson worked on a telephone station. And if you remember that, Bergsson was a hospital nurse. Damn, you have a head trauma, but me, me!

- At least you noticed that, - Kollberg shrugged.

- Mm-hm. And now your trauma is even worse than yesterday. Thanks to me.

"Oh, no", Lennart Kollberg thought. "There goes self-discrimination."

- Let's concentrate on Levard instead of degrading ourselves, - he suggested.

- Mmh, yes. What was that you told her?

- I invited her to a dinner.

- That's why she had hit you?

- No, Gunvald, I'm joking. I asked her why there are so many buns she's buying. She told me it's for us all. "For us all" sounded kind of strange, really, and I asked where do there "us" hide, just a joke.

- Your jokes will drive you straight to death, Kollberg.

- Maybe, maybe. But so far they're helping in revealing criminals, - Lennart laughed. - Where is she hiding, how do you think?

- I hadn't seen where she went after hitting you.

- Oh, I doubt she'll go this way. She was running away, scared or maybe not scared. I think we should ask her father's twin brother.

- Then we should wait.

- We will wait, - Kollberg sighed. It was about 9 a.m. at Sunday, and the day started in the best way it could.

* * *

Ingemar Branström came at 10:45 a.m., very exhausted and hopeless in face.

- Have you lost Ms Levard, colleagues? - his first question was. Kollberg straightened at the place he was sitting.

- You've seen her or what?

- I had followed her till the very Järntorgsgatan. If she really lives there, she came home, I think.

Gunvald Larsson was thinking about something for a minute or two. Then he flinched, darted off the windowsill he was sitting on towards Melander's office. After some time spent there he came out with a thin folder.

- Annette Levard's case, - he said, turning the pages.

- What do you need it for?

- A photo. I remember that Levard's father took his daughter's photo with him when he came.

- You think that... - Kollberg seemed to get the thought.

- I hope not. Look, here it is. - Larsson took a small card out of the folder and looked closer at it. Then he turned the card to show it to Kollberg and Branström.

- I'm surprised, Larsson, - Lennart said slowly. - It's not often I am, you know.

The photo Larsson held was showing a young beautiful woman, looking just like dead Åsa Bergsson and certainly not like Annette Levard they all knew.


	11. Apologies

**Everyone!**

The fic is now frozen.

Why? Because I started playing L4D and my mind fell into another fandom.

The whole idea was presumed to be an oneshot. I don't know how it's got ten chapters, I really don't.

But let me know if you're interested in continuation.

I am also busy with writing 100 themes OTP challenge. I write them in Russian; also let me know if you want to read some, and I'll translate them into English.

**Have a nice day.**


End file.
